


Yearn

by Amikotsu



Series: writing prompts [4]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cute, Embarrassment, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, M/M, Pining, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 07:20:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20756501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amikotsu/pseuds/Amikotsu
Summary: Obito has been having the same wet dream for a while now, and he's tired of keeping it to himself. Maybe outing himself over soggy cereal wasn't the best decision he's ever made, but it's too late now.





	Yearn

He closed his eyes and focused on the sensation of hands slowly sliding down along his spine, warm fingers burning trails along cool skin. When the hands stopped their journey down, down, down, he finally opened his eyes, as if he were trying to understand the moment which had clearly stalled. He silently urged those hands to explore, to continue down, to touch more and more of him, until there was nothing left to explore. He wanted the warmth on his thighs. He needed the release, how he just needed the release. Though he didn’t beg with words, he begged with his eyes, with the way he bit down on his lower lip and pressed his bare body against his lover’s. Those hands moved again, burning another trail; fingers dug into his hips, grip so tight that he wondered if they were both that desperate, both of them clinging to one another to stay afloat. And they were drowning again, each touch like a single breath. They needed more and more; they just needed to breathe again. He’d never thought to touch, only to be touched, so the realization was like opening his eyes again. He pressed his hands to warm cheeks, relishing the feel of skin on skin. He brushed one thumb over pink lips. They were chapped, a tiny imperfection that he’d overlooked, then one he could truly appreciate. A tongue darted from between those lips to taste, teeth nipping at his thumb. And he felt starved for more. He felt a hand slip down along his outer thigh to grip his hardened length and he gasped. The sharp inhale was met with a single kiss, those chapped lips tasting sweet, like the plum wine they’d shared. He yearned for more. He leaned in again and moaned into another kiss. Their tongues met, tasted, and parted over and over again. His eyes had drifted closed the moment he’d touched those lips, but he opened them then. Though the strokes continued, hand moving up and down, up and down, the kisses had stopped. He heard the voice he’d wanted to hear from the very beginning. The heavy breathing, intermixed with moans, gave way to more.

“Say my name.”

“Kakashi!”

Obito jerked awake. He sat up in his bed, the blankets falling from his chest to pool in his lap. He was hard, uncomfortably so, and he’d had the dream again. Obito ran his hands over his face and leaned back against the headboard. He waited for his roommate to knock on the wall, to ask if he was alright, but the air conditioner kicked on and the room was filled with its steady hum. His room was too hot, so he kicked the blankets off, then he shoved his boxers down to touch himself. Clinging to the remnants of his recurring dream, he closed his eyes and gripped his cock. He pretended that it wasn’t his hand, that he wasn’t alone there. He leaned his head back and arched his back, bottom leaving the bed as he thrust up to meet his hand. Obito wetted his lips, tongue searching for the taste of plums, searching for wine he hadn’t consumed. He was drowning again, every stroke feeding him new life. He was rough with himself, motions quick and too jerky, but he was desperate. He was starving again. He couldn’t decide whether he needed to hold his breath or gasp for air. Under the cover of that steady hum, he moaned. Kakashi. He panted. Kakashi. He begged. Kakashi. When he finally came, hot cum spurting from his cock to coat his hand and fingers, to stain his plaid boxers, his whole body felt aflame. Every muscle tensed, carrying him through the orgasm until he finally relaxed again. He stayed like that for a few minutes, repeatedly spreading his fingers, feeling the sticky fluid. He wondered if Kakashi would have tasted him. 

Obito eventually leaned over to his bedside table and grabbed a tissue from the box. He wiped his hand off first, taking care to get between his fingers, then he cleaned off his member. At the end, he dabbed the tissue on his boxers, trying in vain to prevent a stain. He pulled back and tossed the tissue at his wastebasket, easily hitting it -- two points for him -- then he leaned back again and stared up at the ceiling. He didn’t know why he’d insisted on putting a poster up on his ceiling, why he’d insisted on a blonde clad in nothing but a tiny yellow bikini, but he didn’t feel like taking it down. The poster kept his roommate off his back. He really needed to come out, but he preferred life in the closet. He didn’t have to worry about his judgmental extended family. Obito closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, already daydreaming about Kakashi again. He’d had the same dream for three months straight. Most nights he woke himself up by shouting Kakashi’s name, which attracted the attention of his roommate, and most likely the people in the upstairs apartment. He made up excuses and refused to talk about the dream. His roommate thought it was a nightmare, so he let the man think that. Obito had known Kakashi since they were kids, but he didn’t want to risk their friendship over some wet dream. At the thought, Obito wrinkled his nose. Obito kicked off his boxers and slid back down the bed until his head hit his pillow. He turned onto his side to avoid the poster’s blue-grey eyes, then he closed his eyes again. He fell back asleep and welcomed the taste of plums.

“You had the dream again.” Kakashi didn’t even wait for Obito to enter the kitchen before he spoke. His words came following the chewing of breakfast cereal, and the tone was accusing. Obito sighed and went to the cabinet to grab his own bowl for cereal. “What’s so scary about the dream? Do I kill you or something?”

Usually, Kakashi let things go; he'd never really pried, when it came to Obito's recurring dream. Obito grabbed a bowl and closed the cabinet, then he set it on the counter and retrieved the box of sugary cereal from one of the lower cabinets. They just didn't talk about the dream. It was easier, so much easier. Once he'd filled his bowl with cereal, he added milk, taking the cereal to the brim. He took a spoon from a drawer, then he carefully carried the bowl to the kitchen table. Kakashi moved the morning paper for him, holding it up rather than spreading it across the table. One of the headlines was about vandalism in one of the nearby cemeteries. He wondered if their parents' graves were alright. 

As Kakashi read the paper, Obito watched him. He was handsome, even if he insisted on wearing a ridiculous mask. Obito had very little to go off of, in terms of facial features. He couldn't recall a single instance of Kakashi removing the mask, and they'd known each other since they were five. Obito had tried to get Kakashi to remove the mask before; he'd plotted different ways, different sneak attacks and briberies. When they were training, Kakashi always won. Obito had no chance against the prodigy. They'd always been on two separate levels. Obito saw nothing but Kakashi's back; he was forever in pursuit of the man, in more ways than one. 

Obito stared at the line of Kakashi's jaw and imagined touching it, fingers trailing down until he could brush them over Kakashi's lips. He was yearning again, always yearning. At first, Obito didn't realize Kakashi had raised his visible eye from the newspaper to study Obito. When their eyes met, Obito quickly found the marshmallows in his cereal to be especially interesting. He just wanted Kakashi to throw the newspaper aside, to sweep their bowls right onto the floor, and drag Obito into a mind-blowing kiss. But it was too much to ask. Obito could daydream though; no one could stop him from daydreaming. 

"Hm." Kakashi hummed, then he folded the newspaper and set it aside. They only had their cereal between them, bowls suddenly becoming shields and armor. And Obito still wanted to pull him in, to taste the sweetness of their cereal. "Alright. Tell me about your dream. You're always staring at me. What do I do that's so terrifying?"

Obito felt his heart rate increase, felt the pounding in his chest. He swore he heard the thumping in his ears. His mouth had gone dry, so he raised his cereal bowl to drink the remaining milk. He'd already devoured his breakfast. He hadn't come out yet, but he wanted to blurt out the truth. He was in love, and he knew it. He craved Kakashi on a basic level. When they were apart, the dream was harder to bear. Kakashi had given him the moment he'd needed, the opportunity to share a secret side of himself with another person. The dream was terrifying, overwhelming, and absolutely thrilling. It always set Obito on fire. He lived and breathed desire. 

"It's not a nightmare."

"Oh?"

"It's a wet dream."

Obito could have heard a pin drop. He thought about taking the words back, but it was too late to laugh them off as some kind of joke. He'd simultaneously confessed his feelings and outed himself. If anyone would accept him, it was Kakashi. For three months, he'd suffered. He didn't have to suffer anymore. Obito knew another type of release. Obito moved his spoon around in his bowl, lightly tapping it against the bottom. He didn't want to move, but he squirmed under Kakashi's gaze. He felt exposed, even in his t-shirt and sweats. He wondered if Kakashi would leave him. They'd been roommates for years. Obito wouldn't know how to live on his own. 

"I know."

"You do?"

"You moan in your sleep."

Embarrassment surfaced, rising like a mighty tide, and Obito was swept away. There were few instances where Obito blushed, but he blushed then. Kakashi stood, grabbed their empty cereal bowls, and walked them over to the kitchen sink. It was Sunday, a day of relaxation, a day for them to skip on chores, yet Kakashi started washing the dishes. He was running away without running away. Sighing, Obito lowered his chair back onto four legs. Kakashi had intimacy issues. He didn't date. He didn't maintain romantic relationships. Kakashi operated on one-night stands. Confessing to him had been poor judgment on Obito's part. Coming out to him would have been easier, less damaging to their friendship. Obito could hardly remember a time when they weren't friends, when they weren't rivals. Obito didn't handle rejection very well. Even Kakashi knew that. 

Obito stood next to Kakashi, lower back pressed against the countertop. Kakashi focused on the dishes, scrubbing at plates and bowls that didn't require scrubbing. Obito had never asked Kakashi about his sexual preference because Obito had never doubted Kakashi's heterosexual lifestyle. Kakashi had never brought men home, only women, and Obito got to listen to them having sex until Kakashi eventually dismissed them. Some left quietly, while others whined or raged to stay longer, to stay the night. Obito had known Kakashi before the man had distanced himself from others. It was because of Sakumo, Kakashi's father. Obito knew that. After Sakumo's death, Kakashi had never really been the same. Obito teased Kakashi, calling him emotionally repressed and emotionally constipated, but it was the truth. 

"Are you going to say something, Bakashi?"

"How long have you felt this way?"

"A while," Obito answered, doing his best to remain vague, to keep the details hazy. Kakashi stopped scrubbing and removed his hands from the dishwater. He turned his head to look in Obito's direction and Obito squirmed again. Kakashi had a way of uncovering the truth, without even trying. "I've known I was gay since I was fifteen." They were twenty-four, both of them older and wiser. But Kakashi hadn't asked that. He hadn't asked about Obito's sexuality at all. 

So Obito counted the days, weeks, and months. If he were honest with himself, he'd probably developed feelings years ago, back before they were placed on the same ANBU team, back before they had mellowed out. He could have said fifteen, admitting that it was Kakashi that had made him question everything he thought he knew about himself. Saying fifteen made him sound pathetic. He could have said nineteen, which would have made more sense. Kakashi had been deemed KIA, but Obito had raised hell and led the mission that led to recovering Kakashi. That year had been a bad year for both of them. 

"That's not answering the question, Obito."

"Stop rushing me!" He thought he saw amusement in Kakashi's right eye, but it was fleeting, something he could have easily imagined. Fifteen. Nineteen. Twenty-three. Maybe he'd always known. Maybe he'd always felt that way. "A while," Obito repeated, unable to pinpoint the exact moment, let alone the day, month, or year. Kakashi seemed to accept the answer.

"Why didn't you say something sooner?" Kakashi frowned then, something Obito could tell just by looking at Kakashi's brow. He wanted to reach up and touch Kakashi's face, but it wasn't the time, and maybe it would never be the time. Obito didn't know how to answer that question either, not without sounding absolutely pathetic. He hadn't wanted to ruin their friendship, but he'd finally jumped off the proverbial cliff, and he was free falling at an alarming rate. 

"I didn't want it to get awkward. You're my best friend," Obito mumbled, running a hand over his hair. Kakashi looked down at the dirty dishwater, so Obito stared out the kitchen window. The woman in the apartment across from theirs kept a small window box filled with orange gerbera daisies, Obito's favorite flower. "Look," he sighed, "I'm sorry I said anything. Let's just go back to how things were, alright? Alright."

"I don't think you get to make that decision for me. That's not how it works, is it?"

"So then what now? Will you look at me? Come on. Look at me. I'm still Obito, your stupid friend and teammate."

Obito reached out and grasped Kakashi's shoulders and turned the man to face him. He didn't care that hot, soapy water dripped onto the floor, that bubbles slowly slid down Kakashi's fingers. Obito thought Kakashi might be persistent with avoiding him, but Kakashi easily met his eyes. Obito had never been one to shy away from eye contact, but he had to admit he felt the urge to look away. Instead, he smiled at Kakashi, the biggest, goofiest smile he could manage. He decided it was less about him and more about Kakashi. He'd always put Kakashi first, and maybe he was wrong for doing that, but love did crazy things to him. There was a moment between them where Obito knew he could have leaned in, tugged the mask down, and pressed his lips against Kakashi's, but he let the moment pass.

"Tell me how you feel about me," Kakashi finally spoke, eyes burning holes into Obito, "and don't lie to me. I'm serious, Obito." Obito let his hands fall from Kakashi's shoulders. He talked to Kakashi about anything and everything. He'd always been an open book, except for when it came to two things. One, that he was gay; and two, that he was definitely in love with his best friend. Obito suddenly realized the appeal of staring into the dishwater. Kakashi's eyes saw right through him.

"Honestly?" Obito rubbed the back of his neck, eyes cutting to the side in an attempt to spare him from judgment. "I'm kind of in love with you." He let his hand fall and shrugged his shoulders, dismissing the rest of his words and any hope at explaining the confession away.

"You've walked in on me with women."

"I apologized for that!"

"I thought you were seeing Anko."

"What? No! We're friends. She has the hots Genma," Obito explained, a little laugh following. He could imagine the two together and it amused him a great deal. Kakashi pressed a hand to his face, then he sighed, the sound making him seem old and weary. Obito made him sound that way. "Hey, it's fine. I didn't tell you to stress you out. I'm forgetting why I thought this was a good idea. It seems really stupid. Man, I really _am_ stupid," Obito rambled, rubbing his hands over his face.

"You could have waited until a decent hour," Kakashi commented, words muffled by his hand. He moved the hand and pried the hands from Obito's face. They made eye contact again and Obito started laughing. He'd never felt so embarrassed. He knew someone else would find out, likely Rin, and then he would be embarrassed all over again. "I'm glad you're amused."

"I'm embarrassed. You know how I get when I'm embarrassed."

"Yes. You find humor in everything."

"Well, I'm going to go drown myself. Have a good day!" Obito nudged a fist to Kakashi's shoulder, then he turned and started walking from the kitchen. He closed his eyes and muttered about his stupidity again. How could he have thought that blurting everything out was a good idea? He'd embarrassed himself. Somehow, he knew he'd embarrassed Kakashi. Obito slapped the bottom of his palm against his forehead a few times. "So stupid," he whispered.

"Don't you want to hear what I have to say?" Kakashi turned so that he could face Obito. The bubbles had finally fallen from his fingertips. His hand was likely cold, instead of hot. Obito stopped, then he collected himself and turned around. He was sure Kakashi had seen the entire act, but he was thankful Kakashi didn't bring it up. Obito wanted a change of subject. They needed to talk about something else, anything else.

"Yeah. Go ahead, I guess," Obito sighed, gesturing for Kakashi to take the lead. He bit down on the inside of his cheek over and over again to keep from rambling about how sorry he was for broaching the subject. Kakashi was right, of course. He should have waited for a decent hour. Nine o'clock in the morning wasn't an appropriate time for a confession. "Sorry about always waking you up with, uh," Obito trailed off. Kakashi had taken too long to speak, so Obito felt the need to fill the silence.

"With your moaning?"

"Yeah. That. Sorry."

"Are you going to run away if I try talking now?" 

Obito shook his head, turning completely from the doorway to face Kakashi. He inhaled and held the breath, silently counting the seconds until Kakashi spoke again. As Kakashi tried to find the words, Obito noticed subtle changes in Kakashi's posture, like the subtle shifting of weight from one foot to the other, or the way the man's shoulders slumped. Obito knew a lot about rejection, from first-hand experience. He knew what it was like to reject someone, how awful the words tasted, and he saw Kakashi starting the process. Kakashi had rejected people before, both men and women, and he'd never hesitated. He didn't seem to care if his words hurt the other person. So it meant a lot that Kakashi was taking time to organize his thoughts. He was letting Obito down gently, when all Obito wanted was for him to rip the bandaid right off, taking hair and skin and blood from the wound Obito had created.

"If you're trying to spare my feelings right now, I appreciate it, but that's not the kind of person you are. You're unapologetic. So just do it."

Kakashi seemed to find strength in those words. Obito couldn't decipher the expression that crossed Kakashi's face, but he didn't have time to question it. Kakashi walked across the kitchen and Obito flinched, expecting the man to punch him. He even threw his hands up in surrender. His eyes squeezed shut, he felt Kakashi lower his hands. He couldn't help but feel as though he deserved the hit, but he heard quiet laughter instead of the sound of his breaking nose. Obito slowly opened his eye.

"You thought I was going to punch you?"

"I don't know! I threw a lot at you and you didn't seem very happy about it!"

"Hm. I should be happy that my 'best friend' interrupted my sleep by moaning my name at three in the morning."

"In my defense, you did this thing with your tongue," Obito began, cut off by Kakashi flicking him on the forehead. Obito scowled and rubbed the sore spot, while Kakashi closed his eyes for a hidden smile. "Weren't you supposed to be talking to me?"

Slowly, Kakashi moved his hitai-ate out of the way. He reached up and touched his mask, fingers dipping beneath the fabric over his left cheek. Obito inhaled sharply, eyes roaming, trying to finish a puzzle with missing pieces. He was going to see Kakashi's face! He must have looked shocked, maybe even ecstatic, because Kakashi laughed again. For the first time, he noticed the way the morning light filtered in through the thin white curtains. Such a small detail, but the bright window and those orange daisies made for a perfect backdrop. Obito felt as if every part of himself was vibrating with excitement. Then Kakashi lowered the mask, and Obito muttered a string of curse words that would have made any other person blush. Kakashi smiled at him and he saw the curve of Kakashi's lips. 

"Wow, you're really handsome, Kakashi. I thought you were hiding something ugly. Now I see why you wear the mask. "

"Do you? Why is that, Obito?"

"It's to keep people from jumping you."

"That's exactly why."

The Kakashi from Obito's dreams had never been in focus. He'd dreamt of kisses and caresses from a figure he couldn't quite see. Maybe he knew that anything his imagination created would have paled in comparison to the real thing. He didn't notice when he'd gone from Kakashi's eyes to Kakashi's lips, but he found himself staring at them. He wondered if their kisses would taste sweet, like sugar. He wanted sweet kisses. Obito smiled, then Kakashi smiled, as if the expression was contagious. He was suddenly very aware of the fact that _Kakashi_ was leaning in, and he actually wondered if Kakashi even knew what he was doing. Someone else might have questioned Kakashi; someone else might have stopped the kiss or avoided the kiss. Obito rested his hands on Kakashi's hips and pressed his lips to Kakashi's. He was right, of course. The kiss was sweet. Kakashi pulled back first, so Obito quickly dropped his hands from Kakashi's hips, pretending that he hadn't touched his friend at all. 

"Just so you know, I kiss better than that," Obito blurted out, mentally cringing at his words. Kakashi smirked at him, then leaned in for another kiss. It was sweetness all over again. Obito wondered how they'd never kissed before, and he hoped that they could keep kissing, that they would keep kissing, until they were entirely spent, until there was nothing left to give. Obito wanted all of Kakashi. Again, Kakashi pulled away, leaving Obito in a daze, eyes slowly opening, lips ready and waiting for more. "What is it?"

Kakashi took one of Obito's hands, then pressed an index finger to Obito's lips, cutting off any further words. Obito blinked a few times, barely registering that they were moving. Kakashi glanced back at him, a devilish smirk in place. "Show me how the dream goes."

**Author's Note:**

> And another prompt I had that went unpublished. I'm constantly writing, yet 90% of it never sees the light of day. Lame. Yeah, I'm sitting on a two-hundred page story for KakaObi and probably two other one shots. Ugh, I swear I'm okay. Anyway.


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